One Thousand Tears
by Enchanted Daisy
Summary: Doctor's orders for the wintertime blues: A healthy dose of Zutara taken with chocolate, and before bedtime, to give you the warm fuzzies. Possible side effects include tears, laughs, and overall sweetness.
1. Chapter 1

_It's snowing._

_I can see every beautiful, oh so very beautiful, ice crystal drop. As each snowflake falls from the sky tears fall from my eyes. I wonder if this is the last snow I will see. _

_I can no longer wipe my tears, but he walks in, and he gently brushes them off my cheeks. He ho__lds my hands with his cold cold hands, and with the most effort I can muster, because he's here, I move my index finger on his palm. He smiles. _

_In my mind I form the words I cannot say out loud. _

_I love you._

* * *

"Late, late, _late_!" Katara moaned as she stood in front of her closet. This was her early-morning ritual—the impersonal green numbers of her clock blinking at her and coldly informing her she had only a very few minutes to shower, eat breakfast, and otherwise make herself presentable. Choosing what to wear was her, and possibly 95 of the rest of the female population's, most difficult decision in the day. But today three separate examinations would greet her, and giving up on fashion, Katara plucked a white sweater and blue jeans from the rather minimalistic selection in front of her (_must remember to ask Gran-gran to do the laundry_) and slipped them on.

A bowl of only lukewarm beef rib soup awaited her downstairs. She took a few hurried bites, hoping to escape before her grandmother would see, but Gran-gran's eyes were much sharper than her age would suggest.

"Katara! You're late again," she clucked. "Even Sokka is finished before you." Katara grimaced at her grandmother in a full-mouthed show of contrition, but Gran-gran Kanna looked her over critically. "You've lost weight," she said decidedly, her mouth settling disapprovingly, tight fine lines etching valleys into her weathered skin.

Katara was a very slim girl to begin with. In her hurry she had hardly noticed anything when she pulled on her clothes, but now inspecting herself she realized that her already 24-inch-waist jeans were slightly baggy. She swallowed quickly. "Gran-gran, it's stress, or something," she said firmly. Her grandmother was the sort to force triple helpings on visitors who were already clearly stuffed, and in fact, on her own grandchildren as well, and Katara well knew her grandmother's somewhat annoying war-cry when either she or her brother Sokka showed even the slightest sign of illness.

Kanna _harrumphed_ and said, "You're not doing one of those smash diets, are you?" Katara shook her head no, refraining from correcting her grandmother (_it's _crash_ diet, Gran-gran_), and laced up her boots. She did up the buttons of her blue, furred parka and shouldered her bag. Katara embraced her grandmother and placed a kiss on the old cheek. She looked Gran-gran in the eyes that were so similar to her own, and smiled reassuringly, and said, "I'm fine, Gran-gran, if you make my favorite mixed rice I promise I'll eat it all."

Then Katara was out the door, jogging to catch up with her brother who was a blue dot up ahead. "Sokka, wait up!" she called out, her breath forming tiny clouds in the cold winter air. Sokka paused and turned back, well used to this scene, as it played out almost exactly every day. He made a show of inspecting his watch and as Katara neared, said loudly,

"…5, 4, 3, 2, 1….Ah, right on time!" Katara stuck her tongue out at him and then the two resumed walking, quickly, in order to reach their college in time for their first class. "You seriously need a better alarm," Sokka told her. His eyes lit up. "I'll invent one," he said, "which would _move_ after the alarm goes off! And the alarm wouldn't shut off until you get your butt out of the bed and catch it!"

Katara was struck speechless for a moment. "That," she said in a voice made even from shock, "is quite possibly one of the very worst ideas I have ever heard from you, Sokka, and I have heard a _lot_."

"And why is it so bad? I know you: you set _three_ alarms every night and every morning you just hit snooze and go right back to—"

"Snoozing?" Katara interrupted him. She rubbed her hands together and blew on them for warmth. "Unlike _some_ people, I actually have to study."

Sokka spluttered at this, but before he could say anything they had reached the University of Ba Sing Se. The siblings embraced and then parted, Katara off to read for her first exam, and Sokka on his way to test the device that he had been assigned to build for his engineering class. "Good luck, Katara!" Sokka said. She smiled, and nodded, and then saw her best friend Yue.

The first thing Yue said was, "You're losing weight."

Katara rolled her eyes jokingly. "And you're worse than my Gran-gran," she said to the other girl. "It's just stress. I have three exams today!" Yue warily noticed the classic signs of Katara freaking out, and immediately tried to calm her.

"Calm down, Katara…deep breaths," Yue instructed her friend. Under Yue's cool blue eyes and light voice Katara did begin to relax, although she envied Yue her absolute serenity in any situation. She smiled her thanks and pulled out her organic chemistry book from her bag, her eyes traveling over the diagrams and mechanisms she had already spent hours memorizing.

Yue and Katara walked to their chemistry exam together, trading important facts they thought the professor would be sure to ask, and asking last-minute questions. Katara almost trembled as she and Yue slid into the lecture hall, half full of students feverishly reviewing.

"This is going to be a _crazy_ exam," Katara heard the girl behind her moan. "Professor Pathik is crazy enough to begin with." At that moment the professor himself walked in carrying a very thick packet of rainbow-colored exams. His usual narrow suit clashed with the beat-up sneakers he always wore, and he began to distribute the exams. Yue squeezed her hand. The exam that Katara received was bright pink; Yue's yellow.

_Question 1_, Katara read silently to herself. _Propose a series of reagents to synthesize acetylsalicylate from ethyl acetate and acetic acid._ She took a deep breath, calmed her nerves, and began to write.

…

After three exams, Katara was utterly exhausted. That night at dinner, conversing and laughing with her small family, she reached for a piece of pork with her chopsticks, and completely missed. The tips of the chopsticks instead clinked unhappily, emptily, upon the porcelain plate.

"What's with that?" Sokka asked, snickering. Katara tried again, this time more successfully, and slowly chewed the meat.

Gran-gran said sharply, "Are you ill? I'll give you a good dosage of the red medicine after dinner." Sokka continued to chuckle, but Katara inwardly groaned. Gran-gran's traditional, herbal red medicine was one of the most disgusting things she had ever had the displeasure of ingesting, and as far as she could tell it never worked.

"I'm just tired," Katara protested. Sokka had once more become engrossed in his food, although Katara was uncomfortably aware of Gran-gran still observing her. She gave another smile, genuinely affectionate for both her brother and grandmother, and continued to eat completely normally.

Katara had few memories of her mother, only a window of warmth and light in a past darkened by the passing of time. On her twelfth birthday, Gran-gran had given Katara her mother's necklace, a pale blue stone pendant on a darker blue silk band. Back then, sometimes even now, Katara would lie in bed at night, two fingers absentmindedly on the pendant, and imagine how it would have looked on her mother's neck.

Her father had always said, with a strange look on his face, as though one eye was sad and lonely, the other proud and loving, that Katara looked almost exactly like her mother. But then Hakoda had left one day on one of his embassy missions for the government and had never come back. Only a phone call from the embassy, a pleasant educated man's voice over the cold telephone wires, informing Kanna that her son had been killed in an attack on the embassy, was their last tie to Hakoda.

That had been when Katara was ten years old, Sokka twelve, both of them too young to be orphaned, and at the same time too old to not understand. That's when Gran-gran had moved in, her weeping over, her mourning shrouded in her heart. She took good care of the two siblings, a strict disciplinarian but who never hesitated to show her love, and now, ten years later, the pain of her father's and mother's passing had lessened to an occasional twinge when she saw whole, complete families strolling outside on a spring day.

…

A few days later, Katara could hardly breathe as her trembling fingers typed the address to access the university's website. Yue sighed good-naturedly behind her. "Katara, chill," she commanded. Her lyrical voice caught the attention of quite a few young males in the area, who paused and let their eyes wander down her lithe slender form and beautiful face. She remained completely oblivious to them and instead focused on her friend. "You know you've done well." She kept up a constant stream of encouragement in this vein until Katara finally made it to where the grades were posted.

Organic chemistry: 94

Physics: 89

Cellular biology: 92

Katara sighed deeply, shudderingly, her shoulders quivering. "Yueeeee," she complained, "I failed."

"You, Katara, are the only smart girl in this school who is dumb enough to think that an 89 in a _calculus-based physics_ class is failing, and that an _A_ is failing in two of the hardest subjects in the entire course! You can't do better than an A," Yue said.

Katara shook her head. "I know, it's just…." She sighed. It was hard for her to believe she could have achieved something really good, although in her heart she knew she had passed well.

That was why, later, Katara in a much improved mood happily ate ice cream with Yue after classes were over. Despite the freezing cold outside she enjoyed the way the thick sweet dessert coated her tongue, the false green coloring for pistachio transforming her mouth temporarily into an alien's.

"Two more years," Yue said, sipping thoughtfully on her milkshake. "Then we're done with University of Ba Sing Se."

"And then graduate school, and then work," Katara reminded her. She smiled. "But I'm looking forward to it. Yue, we have our whole lives in front of us. Everybody's just waiting for us to go out there and make our mark with them." Yue grinned as well, noisily finished off her milkshake, and stood up. She and Katara walked arm-in-arm down the winter streets, happily talking of future plans.

…

Over the next week or so, small things happened to Katara which she took little note of, although Gran-gran's maternal extinct captured each one and carefully analyzed it. One day at dinner, when Sokka asked her to pass the salt shaker, her hand completely missed it by two inches to the left, and her fingers curled around empty space. Sokka was too busy eating to notice, and Katara merely shook it off as a temporary moment of clumsiness.

Then, more common, were her stumblings. The usual morning jog to campus had her almost fall, although Sokka caught hold of her. Her familiar thudding footsteps down the stairs as she hurried to eat breakfast suddenly slurred as she fell and slid down on her back. "I'm not getting enough sleep," she said to her grandmother when questioned. "I'm in a hurry." Gran-gran didn't say what she thought: _For the past two years you've been in a hurry, you've not had enough sleep. You've never been this clumsy._

Finally, one morning a little over a week after her exam results had come out, Katara ran to her university as usual on a clear day. Barely a few strides in, however, she tripped over seemingly nothing and fell on her face, her chin slashed open and blood quickly seeping from the cut.

"Katara!" Sokka yelled when he realized his sister was on the ground, her thin back trembling with the sobs of pain. Gran-gran hobbled out of the house and made her way to where Katara remained sitting, passers-by giving them concerned looks and the occasional, "Are you okay?"

"We need to go to the hospital," Gran-gran said grimly. "That cut needs stitches. Can you lift her, Sokka?" He nodded and picked up his sister, whose crying stopped in a combination of cold and necessity.

"God I'm so sorry, Katara," he muttered to her as he carried his sister (_she's a lot lighter than I expected,_ he thought) to the car. "It's my fault—I should've waited for you—I would've caught you like I did the last time." He paused, frowning slightly, his guilt subsiding for a moment. "The last time, that was hardly a week ago. You seem to be falling a lot lately."

Katara's front was stained with blood, but when they reached the emergency room and the triage nurse had cleaned her up to prep for the surgeon, she assured Katara, Sokka, and Kanna that it wasn't that terrible. "The human body loves drama!" she informed them cheerfully. "It always looks worse than it really is." She paused. "Well, usually. But in this case—it's not so bad!"

A few minutes later, another triage nurse came to take Katara to the suture room. "Come on," she said. In contrast to the first nurse, this one had a bored, cynical expression in her dark eyes which also clearly translated into her voice. Her nametag read Mai. Katara gave a small smile to her brother and grandmother and obediently followed the nurse, who looked not much older than Katara herself.

In suture room 3 Katara sat on the bed and pressed a gauze pad to her cut. After only a couple minutes the door opened, a rotund stomach entering first, slightly before a kind-looking face which looked to be about the same age as Gran-gran's. But the doctor's air of affability and calm, quiet confidence reassured Katara and she smiled.

He smiled right back and then settled on a stool in front of her, and introduced himself as Dr. Iroh. "You're a pretty girl, aren't you," he said conversationally, as he brushed stinging antiseptic over the wound. "Do not worry, my dear, this will not leave a scar." Within a very short while, the entire time Dr. Iroh keeping up a stream of one-sided pleasantries Katara could not answer, he had finished. His thick fingers had felt cool and experienced on her skin, and a gauze bandage decorated the left side of her face.

"Now let's go back to the waiting room, and I will talk to your mother…" Dr. Iroh paused at the look on Katara's face.

"_Grand_mother," she corrected him thickly through the local anesthesia they had used. He nodded, averting his eyes from hers in a show of sympathy, and led her out of the suture room.

Dr. Iroh shook hands with Kanna, and said, "Now I see where your granddaughter inherited her looks from." Kanna _harrumphed_, her favorite gesture, and said,

"How is she?"

The doctor chuckled. "She'll be just fine, there won't even be a scar. She should just be a little more careful in the future, right?"

Katara nodded and smiled self-deprecatingly, one side of her face still tingling from the effects of anesthesia.

Kanna looked hard at the doctor. "Shouldn't you take some brain scans, make sure everything really is okay?"

Dr. Iroh read much in Kanna's eyes, and he nodded slowly. "Although I doubt her skull was fractured, it is better to err on the side of caution." He beckoned to Katara. "I'm sorry, my dear, but we will just take some pictures of your brain. Simply a precaution," he added quickly. Mai stepped out from the doctor's side and with another bored "Come on" led Katara to the imaging center.

"Perhaps you ought to come with me," Dr. Iroh said to Kanna. She murmured to Sokka to stay put, and although his eyebrows drew together mutinously he nodded.

Once they reached Dr. Iroh's office, he closed the door, and said, "What is this about? You have some question about Katara's health?"

Kanna nodded, her aged knotted hands clasping together. "Lately she's been having problems she's never had before, that no one should have. She's been losing weight without meaning to. Stumbles far too often…falls down the stairs. Sometimes when she reaches for things she misses them completely. And today, when she fell…" she looked up at the doctor. "Usually, Doctor, when people fall, they will put their hands out to break their fall, right?" Dr. Iroh nodded, and Kanna continued, "But Katara, her hands were ungrazed. Completely. She just fell right onto her chin."

Dr. Iroh had become more and more serious, the twinkle dying from his eye, as he heard Kanna catalogue her daughter's symptoms. "I won't say anything until I see the brain scans," he said slowly. "What does she say about all this? Does she notice?"

Kanna nodded. "When I ask, all she says is that she's tired, she hasn't had enough sleep. That she's stressed, or in a hurry."

The doctor leaned back in his chair and stroked his white beard. "That could be a possibility," he admitted. "But I want to wait for the images to come back. Even then, this sounds like a neurological issue. If I see anything strange I will refer you to another doctor who can help you more than I can."

Half an hour later Mai knocked on Dr. Iroh's door holding a large manila envelope. "The images," she said flatly. "The patient is in the waiting room with her brother." Dr. Iroh nodded his thanks to her, and as he pulled out the images the sheets made loud, ominous noises like thunder.

He clipped up the sheets on the illuminating board and switched on the light, observing them carefully. "On the left side you see a normal brain," he said. "And on the right, Katara's. These lighter areas show activity." He pointed to a specific picture of the normal brain, and to the corresponding picture on Katara's side. "As you can see, it appears that in the brain stem, the normal brain is experiencing more activity than in Katara's."

Kanna sunk back down into her seat. "I'm no doctor," she said, "but even I know that doesn't sound right, not normal."

Dr. Iroh hastened to her, saying, "But neither am I a neurologist. I'm an ER doctor." He took a pad of paper and a pen from his desk and scribbled something on it, then handed the top sheet to Kanna. "He's a good, young doctor. Works upstairs in neurology. I believe you should take these image to him."

Kanna narrowed her eyes at the doctor's typical messy writing before deciphering the few characters which spelled the name of the neurologist. She thanked Dr. Iroh and returned to the waiting room, clutching the envelope which held her granddaughter's health.

"Is it all right, Gran-gran?" Katara said anxiously. "Honestly, my head feels fine, I don't think that I injured it."

Kanna looked into Katara's and Sokka's matching blue eyes which were now shaded with a slight bit of apprehension, and she smiled normally, hiding the nervousness of her heart. "These things are hard to tell," she said. "I'm an old woman with many of my own health problems, so I know. Sokka, you go on ahead. Katara and I are going to go see a different doctor."

Immediately Sokka's eyes rapidly looked from his sister to his grandmother and back again. "Why are you seeing a different doctor? What's wrong?"

"Probably nothing," Katara said. "Go on, Sokka, it's okay. You know Gran-gran can be overprotective sometimes," she whispered. Louder, she continued, "Sokka, _go_. And it's not your fault! Although if you _do_ feel guilty you could buy me a Cadbury's Fruit and Nut—"

"Or I'll just get going," Sokka said jokingly, embracing his sister tightly. "I'm really sorry," he said again, but she shrugged him off, and lightly pushed his back.

"There _is_ nothing wrong, right, Gran-gran?" Katara said as she accompanied the older woman up a flight of stairs. Kanna grunted, her lungs already tired.

"That's what we are going to see about," she panted. Katara, now feeling a stab of guilt, suggested that perhaps they should have used the elevator, but Kanna waved off the suggestion. "Besides, we are already here," she said. This area of the hospital was far different from the ER, Katara noticed. They had stopped in front of a closed white door on which no decoration hung, contrary to the holiday paraphernalia which adorned the surrounding doors and hallway. Kanna double checked the name etched onto the brass plate against the slip of paper she held in her hand.

Kanna knocked firmly on the door and it opened readily.

"Hello. I am the neurologist, Dr. Zuko."

* * *

_**A/N: **__Hello everyone! Thank you for reading the first chapter of this story. Clearly, this is an AU taking place in modern time with the characters either college-age or post-college. I was so inspired I wrote this all in one sitting! I hope you all enjoyed. I've always wanted to write a story like this—in fact, I have many half-finished first chapters_ _lurking around on probably every computer we own or have owned, all with this same theme. But the direct impetus for this story __came from rewatching _1 LITRE OF TEARS_, a most excellent J-drama. For those who have seen it—I know my story could never compare to the real Aya's, and it won't even come close to a direct copy. For those who have not—what are you doing? You must see! This ought to be required viewing for everyone. But caution: _heavy drama_ up ahead. If you don't cry at least 1 litre of tears—per episode—then you must be well-nigh heartless, or at least Grinch-esque. _

_Again thanks for reading, and Happy Holidays everyone!_

_So stay tuned for the next chapter: Zuko's a doctor, whaaaaaa? And is Katara just stressed, or is it something more sinister? Will any ships set sail? __We'v__e met Iroh, Sokka, Yue, and Mai__, which other familiar faces will we meet?_


	2. Chapter 2

_Somewhere, I wonder, somewhere, on the other side of this suffering and pain, there must be a land of joy and happiness. Maybe on the other side of the moon. For so much time the moon's light was the only company in my loneliness. _

_Now things have changed. He loves me, and his love is all that keeps me alive, more than the medicines they constantly give me, more than the nutritive IVs they connect to my arms, because I can no longer swallow. _

_He knows, and he will not tell me what he knows. Tonight the moonlight illuminates a sparkle in his eye which I unmistakably __recognize__, after having that same sparkle in my eye so many times. Silently, I beg him not to shed a tear. I __realize__, somehow, with that strange extrasensory perception one acquires after numerous encounters with death and countless more thoughts on it, that the moment I see a tear drop from his eye then I too will begin to cry. And I will choke, and then I will die. And he knows it too, he can read it from my mind with that ability particular to those who truly love each other._

_I will not die with tears in my eyes._

_He tells me: You will not die. _

_And then he smiles, the sparkle is gone, he squeezes my hand, and brushes my fingers over cool metal on his finger. _

_You will not die._

* * *

Katara did not know what shocked her the most about the person who had opened the door for her and her grandmother. She did not even know where to begin. Was it that he looked hardly older than Sokka? Or was it the shock of unruly, un-doctor-like black hair falling artlessly onto his forehead? No, it must be the scar: the mark which flamed across a third of his face, permanently narrowing one gold eye, consuming his ear. She knew it was silly, but Katara felt that the scar made him fearsome, despite his youth.

Kanna had scanned him up and down as well. Once more, she _harrumphed_.

The doctor opened the door wider to let them come in. "My uncle paged me to tell me you were coming," he said, taking his seat behind the desk. Noting the puzzled looks on the two women's faces, Zuko sighed. "My uncle, Dr. Iroh. From ER."

"You look hardly older than my granddaughter here, young man," Kanna said, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. She examined the medical college certificates on the wall, impressive cream-colored giants with officious black calligraphy and a large red seal. Zuko quailed slightly under the formidable lady's scrutiny.

"I'll have to have a talk with Uncle later," he muttered to himself, "about referring every other person who walks in the door, to me." Ignoring Kanna's comment, he said, louder, "Why did Dr. Iroh send you up here?"

Kanna glanced at her politely smiling granddaughter, at her youth and vitality. She said, "Katara had fallen on her head. We got these scans." She handed the envelope slowly over to the young doctor. She did not want Katara to be in the room while Dr. Zuko examined the images. Kanna had an uneasy premonition in the pit of her stomach that something was seriously wrong, but she tried to convince herself it was only her elderly self being overly superstitious.

"I told my grandmother it's nothing," Katara put in, her chin tingling from anesthesia.

Zuko snorted as he put up the images on his illuminated board and flipped the switch. "You're not very graceful," he commented somewhat absently, examining the images.

Katara's polite smile immediately snapped. She was so shocked that this doctor had such poor manners that he insulted his patient that words failed her. Before she fully recovered herself Zuko brought his chair from behind the desk and came to sit right in front of the two women.

"Follow what I tell you to do," he said shortly. Katara nodded and he continued, "Stretch out your left arm all the way to the side, then bring it back to touch your nose, and back out to the side. As fast as you can."

Katara didn't see the point of the exercise, but she shot him a glare, his previous comment still unforgiven, and performed the maneuver. Zuko observed her and wrote some notes on his clipboard. She did the task fairly rapidly and touched the center of her nose almost all the time. Once or twice she missed by the barest centimeter either left or right, and once she hit her nose a little too hard. He made her repeat the exercise with her right hand and achieved similar results.

Iroh had been lecturing Zuko lately on his lack of sensitivity in seeing patients, so Zuko gave the two his best smile—which still ended up strange and grimacing. "I'll call you when I've finished analyzing these," he said, indicating the images still on the board. He opened the door for them and Katara followed her grnadmother out, her back stiff.

"Gran-gran, that was _not_ a very nice doctor," she declared the moment they were in the elevator.

Kanna nodded her agreement. "Gran-gran, really, I'm okay," Katara said, affectionately taking her grandmother's face between her own hands when the older woman said nothing. "It was just a small scrape. Really. And you know Dr. Iroh said there wouldn't be a scar."

"I know, dear, but I'm an old woman, and we worry," said Kanna, smiling back at Katara. She desperately hoped that her fears were nothing more than a grandmother's overly concerned fancy, but she had had many years of experience. And intuition generally was right.

…

A few days later, the phone rang while Kanna was making dinner. Both Sokka and Katara were still at school so she turned the heat low on the stove and picked up the insistently ringing device.

"Hello," said a familiar young man's tenor. "I'm Dr. Zuko, from Ho Miu Ling Hospital."

"Yes, I remember," Kanna said warily, her heart speeding up. Anxiety made her stand up straighter and press the phone hard to her ear.

"I've reviewed her test results," he said shortly. Kanna couldn't tell from his voice what his next words would be; he was almost emotionless, almost apathetic, and it irrationally irritated her. "I think you had better come in today."

That was all, and the phone line buzzed dead in her hands as she realized that the doctor had hung up even before she had said anything.

She finished cooking as quickly as she could, haphazardly adding spices and ingredients and not tasting anything, nor really caring if anything became burnt. Her mind blocked everything except one thought: that of Katara, of her smile, and her smarts, and her similarities to both her parents. Kanna missed both Hakoda and her daughter-in-law every day, and her heart ached to think of how proud they would be of their daughter.

By the time she had hurried to the hospital the sun was just barely starting to set, despite the early hour, and there was a chill nip in the air. _Wintertime, I can feel it in my bones…literally_, Kanna thought ruefully to herself. The sterile, fluorescent interior of the hospital felt colder than the atmosphere outside, despite the hallways being full of doctors, nurses, technicians dressed in blue, red, and green scrubs and gowned patients wheeled on gurneys from room to room.

Kanna knocked on the plain door of Dr. Zuko's office and it opened after a few moments. Papers filled with a scribbling, small hand lined his desk and a stack of manila folders sat on another chair next to his own.

"Here," Dr. Zuko said shortly, without preamble, lighting up his display board. On it were the brain scans Dr. Iroh had previously shown Kanna and she peered at them near-sightedly. The doctor tapped on two pictures, one each from the normal brain and one from Katara's. "You can see how the normal brain stem is more active than your granddaughter's. That, and the symptoms you have described—the loss of appetite, the clumsiness—mean spinocerebellar ataxia."

"Spinocerebellar ataxia," Kanna repeated slowly, looking intently at Dr. Zuko. "Those are big words, doctor."

The young man sprawled into his chair. His light brown eyes were heavy lidded from exhaustion. He'd been on call for fifty-two hours and explaining diseases no one really understood, even in the medical community, to an old woman was not high on his list of fun activities he enjoyed. Which, admittedly, were quite few but that was besides the point. "It's rare. Neurological degeneration." He sighed, Kanna's sharp glance not missing anything. "She's losing function in her brain stem, which controls involuntary and voluntary movement. You'll notice that her clumsiness becomes worse…she'll miss things when she's going to pick them up, her aim will be totally off. The first thing she will lose is her ability to walk freely. Eventually she will no longer be able to speak, write, or even swallow."

"Tell me that she will live," Kanna said in a low voice, repressing the strange tingle in her eyes.

Here, even Zuko paused. He was tired, and usually never cared too much for his patients, but telling an elderly lady that her granddaughter was very sick stirred something even in him. He rubbed his eyes and sat up a little straighter. "The disease progresses differently for everyone," he said. "She has anywhere from two years to ten years."

"Ten years," said Kanna softly. "Ten years. She'll die at the grand old age of twenty-nine. Now tell me that there is a cure."

Zuko knew from the way that Kanna said her last sentence that even she knew there was none. "There is no cure. Or any documented case of recovery," he said.

Kanna was silent for some time, although she felt like crying, which she hadn't done since Hakoda had died. "But please…I don't want to tell Katara yet," she said. "I want her to enjoy her time while she can. We'll tell her later."

The doctor nodded. "It's completely up to you," he said. "She's your granddaughter. But she should be coming back for check ups every two weeks or so. I'll have a better idea of her prognosis by then. In the meantime," he said, scrawling something on a pad of paper, "get this prescription filled. Twice a day with food. It will help with the clumsiness."

The older woman stood up and carefully put on her coat. She gave a curt nod to the doctor and left the office slowly, ponderously making each step down the stairs. Walking, moving, breathing…it was all so natural, something not to be thought of, and yet how could such a basic part of Katara just be taken away like that?

She bumped into Dr. Iroh in the lobby. "Ah, it is good to see you again," he said warmly, bowing to her.

Kanna looked at him, and Dr. Iroh must have seen something in those aged eyes, because he placed an arm on her shoulder and led her to the chairs in the waiting room. "Why don't you sit down, and talk for some time," he suggested gently. "And also I know the perfect thing for this—some nice, hot tea."

"Tea would be nice," Kanna admitted. She was a tough old woman, and normally would have _harrumphed_ Iroh's generous efforts, but all Kanna wanted to do right now was, in fact, drink down that steaming cup of tea which Iroh was bringing over right now.

She sipped the scalding refreshment, and felt it burn her tongue a bit. Iroh chuckled softly. "You might want to wait for it to cool down," he advised, his tone light and joking. "Tea loses its true charm when it is too cold, yet when cooled down a bit I feel as though the flavors have had a proper time to really _infuse_."

Kanna gave her companion an incredulous stare. "You spend a lot of time thinking about tea, don't you," she commented.

"I find tea to be the best of friends…comforting, always there for you, and asks for nothing in return," Iroh said seriously. "But we should not talk of tea when I mean to ask you about your lovely granddaughter. Is her cut healing up nicely?"

Kanna nodded. "You're right," she said, "there is not any scarring." She paused a moment, then went on. "I…we got the results of Katara's tests back."

"And?" Iroh prompted gently.

"He said—he said it was spinocerebellar ataxia." Here Kanna took a hasty sip of tea, hot though it still was, so she might have some excuse for the unnatural shine in her eyes.

Iroh took her hand. "That is an unfortunate diagnosis," he said sadly, shaking his head. "It is not even understood amongst us doctors. But I do not see your granddaughter with you."

"I don't want her to know…yet," Kanna said. "I don't want to give her the burden of this disease. She's barely nineteen, doctor! She's hardly had a chance to live. She's so bright. She has so much in front of her."

"I know Katara is very strong," said Iroh. "But do not keep this from her for too long. She is also a very smart girl and she will figure it out."

Kanna nodded and gave a small smile. "She is quite smart. But just…not yet. I'll tell her later, after…. For now…" she vaguely waved the script that Dr. Zuko had given her. _I just want her to live a normal life. Like every nineteen year old girl should. I want her to worry about boys, about her exams, about what to wear in the morning, about how Sokka teases her. __For now I don't want her to think about this disease._

…

When Kanna finally came home after visiting the pharmacy both Sokka and Katara were already home. The sun had set some half an hour ago and Katara was already at the stove, her hair messily tied back and an apron casually flung over her neck.

"Welcome home, Gran-gran!" she said cheerfully, hugging her grandmother and giving her a kiss on the older woman's weathered cheek. "You've been gone a while, I was worried."

Kanna scanned the happy face of Katara, and smiled widely. "Nothing to worry about. I just came from the hospital."

Katara's brows came together in momentary confusion, but then two fingers touched her chin where a small bandage still protected the stitches. "Oh Gran-gran, did you go because of those silly brain scans?" she asked, stirring a pot of soup.

"Yes, I did, and…you were right! Nothing's terribly wrong. Just some young women sometimes experience clumsiness at your age…hormones you know," replied Kanna, her heart sinking. She hated lying to Katara, who nodded thoughtfully.

"See, Gran-gran, you worried for nothing," Katara said, taking the medicine that Kanna held. "So if I just take this medicine then I should be fine, right?"

Gran-gran nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

…

A week later Katara returned to Ho Miu Ling Hospital for her first check-up with the neurologist. "Stay outside," Dr. Zuko said brusquely to Kanna.

"Fine," Kanna whispered, "but remember—I've not told her about the disease yet. So don't you dare." Braver men than Dr. Zuko would—and, in fact, have—shrink under the fierce glare that Kanna sent his way. Slightly ruffled and definitely scared, Zuko returned to his office.

Katara met him with a narrow-eyed expression she must have clearly picked up from her grandmother. "Would it kill you to be just a _little_ more polite?" she demanded. "You were so mean to my Gran-gran!"

"I'm a doctor. And so I know what's best," Zuko replied. At this point Katara's eyes were nothing more than the tiniest slits of blue and he commented, "That look does _not_ suit you."

Katara hissed but held in her response. _I'm the bigger person here,_ she reminded herself, _you shouldn't let some arrogant doctor get such a rise out of you_. She sat up a little straighter and more dignified in her chair.

"How are your sympoms?" Zuko asked, business-like, no warmth or even care in his tone.

Katara shrugged. "I don't feel any different than a week ago," she said. "I'm still clumsy but I think that medicine is helping." Zuko was silent for a few minutes, writing in her patient chart.

"You don't look like you're from around here," he said, glancing at her dark skin, chestnut hair, and blue eyes.

"And I'm from Shui Guo originally, so what?" said Katara. She did not much like this doctor, with his rude, prideful speech and utter lack of consideration for her, the patient. "You don't look like someone from Ba Sing Se either." Most people in Tu Guo, where Ba Sing Se was located, tended to have light brown skin, dark brown or black hair, and typically had green or brown eyes. Zuko, who was slim where native Tu Guo citizens ran to stocky, and who had very fine black hair which contrasted with his very fair skin and narrow golden irises, definitely stood out from every other citizen in Ba Sing Se.

"My… family is from Lie Huo Guo," said Zuko. "Definitely better than this dump of a city. Anyway I heard that Shui Guo is full of peasants. Are you one of them?"

"What?" Katara screeched indignantly. "Did you just call me a _peasant_? Who do you think you are, you arrogant…you—you—" Sadly, Katara could not find just the right words to describe the _person_ in front of her, and she sputtered angrily.

"Ouch, that hurt," Zuko muttered in his usual slightly husky monotone. "Good thing I'm in a hospital."

She glared at him, her fists balled, and forced herself back to civility. Not that this guy deserved it. "Can we just get on with the exam?" she said quietly.

Katara submitted herself to Zuko's exam and when she left they were both in a bad mood.

"He's so annoying!" she declared to her grandmother.

"She's so irritating!" Zuko said angrily to his door.

The door to his office opened some time after Katara had left. "You know this place is really uncheerful," came a perky voice. Zuko groaned mentally. Ty Lee Kyung, MD, was one of those perpetually happy and bubbly people that inherently dark people like Zuko did not get along with. On the other hand that same ebullient nature helped her as a pediatrician and she was easily one of the most popular doctors at Ho Miu Ling.

"What, is the aura here too black or something?" said Zuko waspishly.

Ty Lee nodded seriously, twirling her long braid thoughtfully around her finger. "Really, Zuko, your job as a doctor is to encourage people that they are going to live. But when sick people walk in here they feel like they will just die!"

Zuko snorted. "I don't care what you say, there is _no way_ I'm painting the walls of my office pink. Or putting up pictures of unicorns and rainbows on my door."

"Well no, you couldn't do that, silly, because that's the way _my_ office is decorated," said Ty Lee cheerfully. "But maybe you could—"

"No, Ty Lee, I really couldn't," said Zuko firmly, irritation roughening his voice. "Why give people false hope? Now if you don't mind—or hell, I don't care if you _do_ mind—but I've a lot of work to do, so please leave me alone." He deliberately bent his head to concentrate on his work, but he heard Ty Lee's good-bye.

Once she had left Zuko let out a long sigh and massaged his temple with his fingers. Seeing Ty Lee, whom he had known since they were both very young, brought back childhood memories that Zuko didn't particularly want. His fingers encountered the scar that disfigured a third of his face and he shook his head in disgust. At that moment his pager beeped, and he went to find his uncle.

"Yes, Uncle?" said Zuko with some patience. Iroh was one of the few people that Zuko attempted to control himself around, because he was fully aware of exactly how much the older man had done for him.

Iroh looked at him seriously. "You are not going to like this, nephew," said Iroh, sipping at his tea, "but your sister Azula is coming to visit tomorrow."

* * *

_**A/N: **__Hey everyone thanks for reading this chapter! I tried to find the actual names of the different kingdoms—Lie Huo Guo is Fire Nation and Tu Guo is Earth Kingdom obviously. I couldn't find the word for the Water Tribes so I tried using the Cantonese word for water, Shui. _

_In retrospect I realize I probably should have made Ty Lee the nurse and Mei a surgeon, given her canon thing with knives and all that. _

_But I hope you all enjoyed the Zuko-Katara interaction…don't worry, it gets better from here. _


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